


The Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

by aqd



Series: Laviyuu Week 2018 [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Captivity, Character Death, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, LaviYuu, Laviyuu Week 2018, Love, M/M, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, War, canonverse, post captivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 10:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14103354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqd/pseuds/aqd
Summary: They want the old Lavi back, all smiles and jokes. Lavi wants him back, too, because it always has been so much fun. Joking with Lenalee, teasing Allen, pestering Kanda. All nice and easy.And over.





	The Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

**Author's Note:**

> First day of the Laviyuu Week: Rain | Spring, Growth, Tears, Sorrow, Life  
> laviyuu-week.tumblr.com
> 
> trigger warnings: mentions of torture, sexual content, ptsd, flashbacks

Time has always been a fascinating concept to Lavi. The way it flies by, freezes, stretches endlessly.  
  
It won’t pass when he has to write a particularly boring record, while it races when he’s surrounded by nice company, laughing and joking. Hours disappear into cozy nothingness when he sleeps. And time stays still when he has to fight and survive.  
  
He had always a good sense of time, always been able to tell the time without having a look at a clock. It’s lost after weeks in darkness, the only light source a flickering candle.  
  
Time won’t pass and at the same time he feels like he already lost years. He knows it’s not true, because his hair is only a few centimetres longer than the last day in freedom.  
  
He still knows exactly how this last day started. The old man woke him up rather gently, only a little jolting and a hand cupping his cheek. Lavi isn’t used to much tenderness, aside from the old man holding his hand for days after he was shot as a little boy.  
  
But this day Bookman was friendlier, maybe even a little grandfatherly. Just like he knew about the weeks and months ahead. Lavi got up, slipped into his clothes and then they shared the last slices of bread and a pot of tea.  
  
He doesn’t remember the actual abduction. It’s all fuzzy and dark, until he’s suddenly sitting on a chair, bound and in the beginning still confident. That changed after the first meeting with Sheril.  
  
Bookman won’t talk. Lavi knew it the whole time. It didn’t stop him from begging, though. He was all brave and heroic in the beginning, screaming in pain and tears running over his cheeks, but still grinding his teeth and staring Sheril right in the eyes, almost provoking.  
  
_I’m not afraid of you_.  
  
The begging came later, much later. Several broken bones and bleedings later. Days without food and barely water.  
  
The old man stayed silent, sweating severely and dark eyes wide. Lavi knows him long enough to understand. _I am so sorry_.  
  
The days melted into each other, pain making everything blurry and faded out. The old man didn’t talk, but Lavi did. He told them everything, truth and lies, _just please stop, please, please, please_.  
  
They didn’t.  
  
And it still got worse. Not because of torture, but because of a heart attack, probably caused by severe stress. They even tried to save the old man, because they still wanted their answers, but they had no chance. And suddenly Lavi is alone like never before in his life. The old man has always been there, ready to answer questions or scrutinize his records. Lavi never had a family. His earliest memories are rooms full of children and nuns. The details are fuzzy, sometimes he remembers the smile of his favourite nun, but not the rest of her face. He remembers the scratchy linen and angry voices fighting over the brown ball he always liked to play with. He doesn’t remember the day the old man appeared. He was just suddenly there and somehow Lavi ended up with him. He never asked why the old man chose him out of all the other little children. He casted off his name and became Bookman Jr.  
  
It has always been the two of them. Persona after persona and people, not more than ink on paper. Bookman and Bookman Junior.  
  
Now only him.  
  
The days blur into each other. He doesn’t have another purpose for the Noahs. The old man never let Lavi in on the very last secrets he had. Weeks alone in his dark cell, aside from the intruder in his head. Wisely enjoys messing with his memories, ripping them apart and gluing them back together, just like he wants to.  
  
Akuma appear in times Lavi didn’t even know they existed. Bookman fades away and suddenly there’s nobody to hold his hand after he has been shot. His friends, the people who have been always more than ink on paper, switch places, appear or disappear.  
  
Why does Allen’s smile look so sad? Why does Lenalee cry so often? Who gave him the ace of spades in his pocket? What’s Kanda’s first name?  
  
He loses his personas. Some are completely gone, others don’t fit to the times he remembers. Deak and Lavi exists simultaneously for nearly the complete first year in the order. Missions bleed into each other. He remembers fights he knows he only heard about. The stories of several of his older scars are gone. He knows they’re from fighting, but Wisely just ripped it out of his head and the only thing left is confusion.  
  
The worst are the illusions of being rescued. Wisely does it again and again. Lenalee comes through one of the windows and holds his hand while they run through the woods. Allen comes at night and dumps him near the Headquarters. Bookman, suddenly alive again, manages to pick the lock of their cell. Kanda leaves behind death and destruction and helps him outside.  
  
It’s devastating every time and after a while even pitiful enough to ruin Wisely’s fun. He leaves Lavi alone, who wants him back after endless isolation, probably only a week, but it feels like months.  
  
They finally come for him. Not an illusion. Reality. The first hint is the fact that Lenalee bursts into tears, when she sees him. No tears of joy or relief. It’s honest horror, fuelled by silence. Lavi doesn’t remember the last time he used his voice for something different than screaming and by now it feels like his vocal chords withered away. The escape is chaotic, but nobody tries to stop them. They probably grew tired of him by now. An old toy nobody wants to use anymore.  
  
The days until they reach the Headquarters fly by and Lavi mostly sleeps. Krory is there, too, and tries to talk to him, but his words just flow past him. After months of withdrawal into himself, the only safe haven left, it’s hard to open up. Words don’t reach him and he barely feels the hands holding his own or patting his shoulder.  
  
He expects the whole time that the illusion will end and he’s back in his cell, but it doesn’t happen. A thought, which only slowly sinks in.

 

It’s weird. They told him beforehand and he knows how bad it is, because Lenalee can’t stop crying, Krory’s weeping, too, and Komui looks as serious as barely ever before.  
  
Kanda knows how bad it is, but that doesn’t stop dread from sloshing over him the first time he sees Lavi. Or what is left of him.  
  
He lost at least ten kilogram, maybe more. His cheeks are hollow, his skin is ashen and the circles under his eyes are dark like bruises. Kanda doesn’t go into the room, because his legs won’t obey. Instead he just looks at Lavi, who sits on the bed, hugging his legs and staring outside the window. He doesn’t move an inch and Kanda can’t stay any longer.

 

They try talking with him, but Lavi spends his days under the blanket in the soft, soft bed in the medical section. After months on the hard ground it’s wonderful and warm. He’s still numb, his body still hurts, he still can’t sleep without waking up screaming and the old man is still dead, but it’s warm and soft and that’s the best thing he had in the last few months.

 

The wounds heal. They have to reduce the fracture of his shin and anaesthesia throws him into fuzzy darkness. He can’t walk afterwards, but that’s okay since he doesn’t have a place to be to anyway. So he just stays in bed and eats the soup the head nurse is bringing him. She sits often at his bed and talks to him, about everything. And Lavi listens, because she was never an important enough piece of his memory for Wisely to mess with. There’s no confusion and she’s just the way he knows her, even though softer. He eats his soup, because she insists on it and keeps talking until he falls asleep.

 

The nightmares come back every night. The fracture needs to heal longer than usual, because he’s haggard and can’t rest properly. He doesn’t sleep a lot. Instead he just keeps looking outside, watching sun slowly crawling over the sky, coloured in soft hues of yellow and rose, later a rich blue, then beautiful red and orange and finally deep, dark blue. Day after day, night after night. He counts the stars and sometimes he remembers their names or how Bookman explained the different constellations to him, but often he feels a dull ache in his chest without knowing why. It’s probably sorrow and grief. Lavi embraces the numbness.

 

He starts to leave the bed as soon as the pain doesn’t let him whimper anymore when he puts weight onto his leg. He’s not as observant as before, because of the chaos and restlessness in his head, but he knows when the shifts of the nurses end. A perfect moment to vanish.  
  
He slips out of his bed and into the hallway and then he just walks. He finds hideaways, dozens of them. Some feel weirdly familiar, but he can’t remember why. And so he spends his days in empty labs, an old closet, a dusty ventilation shaft, a niche between two huge bookshelves, under an unused hospital bed.  
  
Hiding is nice and easy, much more than sitting on his bed and receiving visits. They all try to help him. He got better at listening, but he still can’t talk. He’s mute with horror, nightmares and grief.  
  
Lavi’s dead, left behind in a dark cell. He died for the 49th time and it’s time for a new persona, though his mentor is dead and there’s no way he can take his place. It’s time for a new name, but _Lavi_ feels too familiar. The only crutch in dark times and so the name stays, but now he’s the new Lavi. Mute and traumatized. All alone and terrified.  
  
They want the old Lavi back, all smiles and jokes. Lavi wants him back, too, because it always has been so much fun. Joking with Lenalee, teasing Allen, pestering Kanda. All nice and easy. And over.

 

He’s still skinny and malnourished, but he’s healthy enough to leave the medical section. There’s no way in hell he’s going back to the room he once shared with Bookman and nobody seems to question that. He gets a new room in a silent corridor. The rooms next to him are empty and he appreciates it, because there’s no one to bug him and also no one he can wake up with his screaming every night. He still likes to hide, mostly in his new room, but also often in his old hideaways.

 

Kanda has never been very observant, but he’s the best at finding Lavi. He still doesn’t talk, even after weeks, and so Kanda does. Not much since he doesn’t have a lot to say, but he tries. Kanda only hears his voice when he screams at night and sometimes at day when he falls asleep in one of his hiding places.  
  
Kanda knows them all by now and it never takes him long to find the redhead, who looks with a huge eye at him and doesn’t move an inch until Kanda crouches down and examines him.  
  
“Time for dinner,” he says and Lavi’s eye flits aside. Eating is hard. He’s still nearly as skinny as the day he came back home, because he barely gets anything down. Kanda looks at him and instead of getting up and leaving like he normally does, because _no_ means _no_ , even when he doesn’t talk, he carefully reaches out. Lavi stares at his hand and then at him. Kanda doesn’t touch him, instead he just holds his hand out and waits. “Okay?” he adds after a moment, because the silence is deafening. He slowly starts to forget the sound of Lavi’s voice. The laughter is long gone, buried under the last moment with Alma, memories of lotus and grief.  
  
Lavi’s eye reddens, but he doesn’t cry, because he never does, and finally he curls his ice cold fingers around Kanda’s. He helps him up and off they go.

 

He’s often weary to the bone, because he can barely sleep, and so Lenalee lays him down next to her and puts a blanket over the two of them. It’s innocent, just a thing friends sometimes do, more than enough room between them. Lavi still can’t sleep, but at least he can now listens to Lenalee’s breathing instead of the roaring of his demons.  
  
Komui walks in on them one time and lets hell loose. He sounds awfully similar to Sheril screaming because of his missing daughter and shuts up as soon as Lavi starts to hyperventilate. Lenalee tries to calm him down, but he flees to his newest hiding place, an old wardrobe full of worn-out jackets, and stays for the rest of the day.  
  
Komui wants to apologize on the next day, but Lavi stops him a wave of his hand, because he only meant well and Lavi has barely the energy to drink his tea and try to eat some oatmeal.

 

Flashbacks. Reever explains it to Kanda, who feels dizzier and dizzier, because it suddenly has a name. Nowadays they’re rare, but in the first few years after the day he killed his one and only friend, flashbacks were his daily companions. He woke up screaming every night, sometimes kicking and hitting Tiedoll, who jolted him awake and never got angry, even when Kanda managed to crack his glasses. He couldn’t touch anything remotely sticky for months, because every time Alma’s screams chased through his head, he had the smell of iron and death in his nose and on his hands. He still has them sometimes, just recently when sand crunched under his shoes, just like in a silent ruin once occupied by the song of a dying doll.

 

Lavi sometimes dreams of dark hair and even darker eyes and has no idea what it means. It’s a weird feeling somewhere in his stomach. A nervous but excited fluttering.  
  
The dreams are a nice change, because they keep Sheril and Wisely away, pain and blood, his dead mentor, who has always been so much more than ink on paper.  
  
The dreams confuse him, but he still welcomes them.

 

Most of the time he’s alone, since he can’t endure company very long. Their voices are too loud and hectic, their eyes are too sad. He goes on long walks through empty and dusty corridors, exploring every niche and every corner of the Headquarters, his only company mice, spiders and moths.  
  
War is still raging and nearly every week coffins reach the Headquarters. The Exorcists look more and more exhausted. Ōzuchi Kozuchi was destroyed by the Noahs and there’s nothing Lavi can do, especially since he only has to hear screams and shouts to panic. His hands are shaking permanently and he can’t remember how he was ever able to fight.  
  
Kanda is a General now and old Lavi would probably have loved to tease him about it, because he seems weirdly uncomfortable with his new title. He now has apprentices, only two of them since he’s still learning. A young girl and a woman in her early twenties. Lavi likes to watch them train. To everybody’s surprise Kanda seems to have a natural talent for teaching, because the girl’s synchronization rate goes through the roof in the span of only a few weeks and his second apprentice manages to severely wound one of the twins together with her General, while listening to the screams of his brother.  
  
But it changes only a few weeks later. Kanda leaves together with his apprentices and comes home accompanied by two coffins, dark eyes frozen by dread.

 

The head nurse is still looking after him nearly every day and she more or less forces him to train to snap out of flashbacks. Physical stimuli like temperature, concentrating on the sounds around him, counting the bricks of the wall. It doesn’t help often, but sometimes it does and so he keeps practicing, the head nurse's hand reassuringly on his back.

 

The words come finally back, but only slowly and one by one. He spends weeks with walking through deserted hallways and naming everything he sees. His voice keeps cracking and he doesn’t have any hope that he’s going to be able to talk like he did before the Noahs took him, but he still doesn’t give up.  
  
Kanda is the first one to hear his voice, because Lenalee would probably burst into tears and Lavi doesn’t have enough energy for that.  
  
They’re in Lavi’s new room. He sits on his bed, while Kanda leans against the wall and stares out of his window, probably enjoying that Lavi doesn’t try to comfort him and just leaves him alone. Lavi spent the last half an hour watching how the sunlight plays with his hair and the sharp shadows of his lashes on his cheekbones, before he gathers all his courage and sits up.  
  
“Kanda,” he croaks and Kanda freezes for a long moment, dark eyes wide, before he slowly turns around and looks at him in surprise. “Kanda?” Lavi tries again and grimaces because of the sound of his voice.  
  
A minute passes and they just look at each other, before Kanda finally answers. “Present.”  
  
And for the first time since the morning he shared bread and tea with Bookman Lavi laughs.

 

Dried peas in his shoes, uncomfortable enough to snap him out of dark memories. A little stone to fidget with in the depths of his pocket. One of Kanda’s hair ties around his wrist.  
  
It’s still hard work and Lavi is embarrassed he needs aids to get through the day. Kanda doesn’t say anything, instead he sometimes disappears for a while and comes back with mint leaves, a little sack with peppercorns and once even with a lavender stalk. Lavi has no words, which is fine, because Kanda flees anyway before he has the chance to say something.

 

Kanda nervously watches Lavi, who gets paler and paler. They’re in the line in the dining hall and the redhead flinches with every clinking of dishware. It’s the first time he managed to make it into the dining hall without hyperventilating. More than a few people turn around and stare at them, probably because it’s the first time they see the redhead after months of hiding in deserted hallways and empty rooms.  
  
The people in front of them let them kindly skip the line and Jerry smiles at Lavi. “What do you want?” he asks softly, but Lavi can’t get out any words and so Kanda orders for the two of them.  
  
“Tempura.”  
  
Lavi keeps clenching and unclenching his fists while they wait. Jerry puts their plates on one tablet, which Kanda carries. Lavi flees to an empty table in a more silent corner and Kanda watches his breathing getting calmer and slower. He can’t eat much, just like Kanda, who’s getting a new apprentice next week, although he still wakes up shaking and sweating after the loss of the last two.  
  
They leave quickly and nearly make it through entrance hall, until an older Finder starts to shout at a younger one and the angry sound of his voice is enough to set Lavi off.  
  
He’s cachectic and skinny, but Kanda still needs a few minutes to catch up on him, because mortal fear lets Lavi’s feet nearly fly over the ground. He doesn’t know if it’s a flashback, but Lavi struggles for breath and looks like he’s going to pass out any moment.  
  
He leans against the wall, face hidden behind his hands, and shakes terribly. Kanda looks around, not sure what to do, until he sees the door to the communal showers. “Lavi?” he says, but there’s no answer. “Lavi?” he repeats louder and now the redhead is crouching down, curled up into a little ball. “Lavi!” Kanda tries again, but there’s still nothing. Kanda watches for another moment, before he moves closer.  
  
Lavi starts to scream the second Kanda closes his hands around his arms, still in his cell and getting tortured by Sheril, who desperately wants his daughter back.  
  
The showers are fortunately empty and Kanda keeps shouting Lavi’s name, but he can’t hear him, and so he drags him under the closest shower, groaning when Lavi’s elbow lands in his face, but still not letting go of him.  
  
Lavi yelps as soon as the ice cold water hits both of them. He curls his hands hard enough into Kanda’s shoulder to leave behind bruises, but Kanda barely notices. Instead he lets go of Lavi’s arms and brushes his hair out of his face. Lavi’s breath is still going to quick, but he’s back in the here and now and looks wide-eyed at Kanda.  
  
“Lavi,” he says softly and that’s enough to let him crumble. His eye reddens and his lips start shaking and then he bursts into tears. He leans against the tiled wall, one of Kanda’s hands on each side of him. Trapped under the cold shower, teeth chattering and whole body shaking, because of grief and temperature. Kanda does a step back, but Lavi doesn’t leave. He slowly sinks down the wall, face hidden behind his hands and cries and cries and cries. Kanda watches him for a moment, a weird mix of pain and helplessness sloshing through his stomach, before he turns on the warm water and kneels down next to him. “Lavi,” he repeats and the redhead finally looks up, hands slowly sinking down. He leans back and closes his eye, breath going slower, but sobs still spilling out of him, together with honest desperation.  
  
“I wanna go back,” he croaks and the words stumble out of his mouth.  
  
“Whereto?” Kanda asks and wipes his wet hair out of his eyes. Both of them are soaked by now.  
  
“Before-” Lavi’s voice dies down and his face twists in pain.  
  
“Before all this happened?” Kanda guesses and Lavi nods. “I see,” he silently adds and doesn’t know what to say, because he wants the same. Go back. To the dark cradle of his childhood, the person he was searching always right in front of him. Glinting dark eyes and childish laughter. But it’s over, all of this. Number 49th is dead and so is Kanda’s oldest companion rage, who has always been burden and guardian at the same time. War ripped both of them apart and pressed them scantily back together, now balancing on an edge between the abyss of dark past and even darker future. The symbol on Kanda’s chest spread out even more and sucks him with every day a little drier. _Live fast, die young_ , they say and unfortunately he never had a say in this. Just like Lavi, whose purpose is lost somewhere between the shards of his once flawless memory and the dead body of his mentor in a cold cell.  
  
The world is as dark as nine years ago and even though they have to share the little air left, it’s easier to breathe.  
  
“Come,” Kanda says and picks Lavi up to help him on his feet, wincing because how light he his, the feeling of sharp bones under wet clothes and pale skin. He wants to step back as soon as Lavi is on his feet, but the redhead doesn’t let go. He curls his cold hands into Kanda’s shoulders, shaking because they left the warm water behind, and Kanda holds still, clearly feeling Lavi’s hot breath against his neck. It’s not really a hug, it’s more the grip of somebody drowning and Kanda closes his eyes with a soft sigh, because floating together in the numb darkness has always been more bearable than diving in all alone, though his younger self denied it.

 

Lavi is later embarrassed by his outburst and his death grip on Kanda, who just stood in front of him, arms hanging down and wet hair sticking to his face. They’re in his room and Lavi wears too wide slacks and a shirt and watches Kanda combing his wet hair.  
  
He’s exhausted and would love to just lie down on Kanda’s bed, linen smelling like detergent. He examines him and his unreadable dark eyes. Kanda is still absent-mindedly combing his hair and seems to be deep in thought, like so often in the last months.  
  
Lavi knows he’s different than before, but he can’t pinpoint it. Lenalee says he’s less stern and softer, but there’s more to it. There’s a tinge of sadness in his eyes, something Lavi barely ever saw before on him, only once when they shared a room on a mission and he watched Kanda start up from his sleep. Something rings a bell in the depths of Lavi’s head, a certain someone Kanda was searching for, but he doesn’t remember who it was and especially it doesn’t remember why he knows.  
  
Kanda ties his wet hair up in a ponytail and Lavi’s eye sets on his lips. “What’s your given name?” he finally asks and Kanda pauses for a long moment and examines him in surprise. Lavi smiles awkwardly and rubs tiredly his face. “Sorry,” he adds and there are a thousand words he wants to say, to explain, to apologize, but he stays silent. Kanda knows what Wisely did to him, though Lavi doesn’t remember telling him, but maybe the head nurse did.  
  
“Yuu,” he answers after an endless moment and the little word hits Lavi hard enough to let a shiver erupt between his shoulder blades and dart over his whole body.  
  
“Yuu,” he echoes and nearly has to laugh, because it has always been there, just out of reach, hidden somewhere behind the horizon. “Yuu,” he repeats and gets up. Warmth spreads out in his chest and the world suddenly feels a little lighter. He stops in front of Kanda, who looks at the same time relieved and hurt, barely hidden behind a frown. “I’m sorry,” he says again and Kanda shakes his head.  
  
“It’s fine,” he replies and doesn’t move away when Lavi reaches out and lies a cold hand on his cheek. “Did you forget other things, too?” he asks and leans ever so slightly into the touch. Lavi feels another wave of tears, because the answer is yes. The dreams of dark hair and even darker eyes never stopped and he did forget other things, the most important ones. He nods slowly and wants to apologize another time, but Kanda shushes him. “It’s fine,” he replies silently and looks so much softer than usual. “Shh,” he repeats, when Lavi exhales, breath and hands shaking, and then Kanda steps closer and kisses him.

 

It hurts, it really does. Kanda always knew that Lavi would one day move on and leave, but he never expected him to _forget_. Though that’s not the right word. The memories were ripped out of his head, together with levity and laughter, and all that is left are fear and shards he keeps mismatching.  
  
Kanda was never good with words, but now he has to talk. They lie on his bed, cold spring air crawls through the crack in the window, and Lavi hangs on his every word and Kanda talks and talks. About a first kiss more than two years ago after a mission, which nearly had been Lavi’s last one. About secret meetings at night in the hallways. About the way they treated each other in the beginning, because both of them had absolutely _not_ been in love or even like each other that much. About the night Kanda finally told Lavi everything about lotus, blood and nightmares.  
  
Some details are still there, others come back, a lot is missing completely. Lavi lies on his side next to him and listens carefully, sorrow darting over his face, when Kanda tells him about Alma, who had always been the person he was searching for, was kept alive all these years and finally died amidst sand.  
  
It’s cathartic and the best is that Lavi maybe doesn’t remember, but his body does. He keeps touching Kanda’s face just like he always did, thumb brushing over the line of his jaw and fingers playing with his hair. He touches gently the slowly fading bruise under Kanda’s eye, another sign that the symbol on his chest gets weaker.  
  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he finally asks and his eye reddens, when Kanda reaches out and carefully traces the scars on his face. Old and new, mostly new. He has lots of them, especially on his limbs, signs of months in darkness and desperation.  
  
“I think you had enough other issues, even without me and this… thing between us,” he answers slowly and it’s ridiculous, but his heart is a little lighter. He spent endless nights contemplating what he should do, if he should talk to Lavi and in the end he decided against it, because their time has always been limited and maybe it’s better when at least one of them forgot. Less heartache and tears that way.  
  
That was the plan, but Lavi had always a talent for wreaking havoc with plans.

 

They start this little game. True or false. Lavi asks and Kanda answers.

 

“You tried killing me the first time I used your given name,” Lavi says. He sits next to Kanda and dabs the cuts all over the side of his face with disinfectant. The head nurse and her co-workers have their hands full, because two of Kanda’s three Finders are severely hurt. A clash with the Noahs. Kanda managed to injure at least one of them life-threateningly.  
  
He closes his eyes and his voice isn’t more than a sigh. “True.”

 

“I… I once knew somebody named Doug,” Lavi says into the silence of his new room. He lies on his side and Kanda is next to him, eyes closed but not sleeping. The last mission was hassle-free but exhausting and Kanda has to leave in only a few hours. He opens his eyes and examines Lavi.  
  
“True, but you never told me about him, his name aside,” he answers and Lavi slowly nods.

 

“I always liked to be the center of attention.” They sit at a table right next to the door of the dining hall, escape route as short as possible.  
  
“False,” Kanda answers and Lavi watches a single soba disappearing between his lips. He barely touched his own food, because the noise of hundreds of talking people keeps him on edge. “You always acted like you loved attention, but most of the time you ended up somewhere next to me, far away from ruckus.”  
  
“Because I don’t like ruckus or because I wanna be with you?” Lavi asks and Kanda raises his brows. His eyes wander aside and when Lavi turns his head he sees Lenalee and Krory coming towards them, both of them smiling.  
  
“You may well ask.” Kanda takes a sip of tea and his dark eyes are on Lavi. “I have no idea.”  
  
“I have a guess,” Lavi replies and smiles at him.

 

“You didn’t used to be this patient,” Lavi says breathlessly. He’s shaking and sweating and feels like he’s going to faint any minute. He sits on the ground of an empty corridor and digs his heels hard enough into the peas in his shoes that it hurts. It’s the only thing keeping him in the here and now. Aside from Kanda, who’s crouched down next to him and moves a cold cloth over his neck and face. Temperature and tactile stimuli, Lavi’s new best friends.  
  
“True, I guess,” Kanda answers silently and smooths a thumb over his cheekbone. “Everything will be okay,” he adds reassuringly and Lavi takes his hand.

 

“I loved him.”  
  
The room he once shared with the old man is hidden under a thick layer of dust. Records and books are scattered all over the floor. Lavi sits on the bed and he’s breathing too fast, eyeing the paper bag in Kanda’s hands.  
  
“True. You did,” Kanda answers and sits down next to him. He lays a warm hand on Lavi’s cold one before handing him the bag.

 

“We did this before,” Lavi breathes, eye closed and hands warm. They lie side by side, way too close together, and Kanda has hooked a finger under his shirt to expose the shoulder he’s kissing right now.  
  
“True,” he answers likewise silently and Lavi pulls him closer.

 

He might not be an Exorcist anymore, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be useful. The flashbacks are still trusty and hated companions, together with nightmares and hyperventilating, but Lavi nonetheless keeps training.  
  
His first mission as a Finder is rocky and he keeps making mistake after mistake, but his co-workers are forgiving, probably because he fought side by side with many of them when he still was an Exorcist.  
  
On his second mission he accompanies Kanda and his apprentice, a fourteen year old girl with a parasite type Innocence. Kanda has an eye on both of them and in the end they recover the Innocence and go back home without much more than a few scratches.

 

As a General Kanda has more duties than before, for example to attend meetings with the other Generals. He skips every single one of them and hides in Lavi’s room whenever he’s not training his apprentice. He also often stays the scarce nights he’s in the Headquarter and they share blanket and pillow.  
  
The nightmares are still regular visitors and Kanda has to jolt him awake at least once every night.  
  
“Lavi,” he says insistently and Lavi’s still half in his dark cell, the hard ground under his back and his broken leg hurting terribly, and half in the soft and warm bed next to him. Sheril’s voice resonates through his head, desperation and rage spilling out with every vowel. “Lavi,” Kanda repeats and rubs his back. Lavi lies on his side, curled up and digging his fingers painfully hard into his shins. “Lavi,” he says once more and carefully touches Lavi’s wrists to uncurl his fingers.  
  
Lavi’s back creaks when he slowly starts to stretch out and he winces. He also has a cramp in his good leg, like often after the nightmares, and he doesn’t even have to say something. Kanda’s warm hands wander to his calf and he gently stretches Lavi’s leg, before he starts kneading the hurting muscle. Lavi lies on his back and watches him, aware that his shirt is drenched by cold sweat and his hair is sticking to his forehead. Kanda keeps massaging his calf even after the pain ceased and examines him. The full moon radiates pale light, giving Kanda’s skin a milky tone and turning his eyes even darker.  
  
“Thank you,” Lavi says after a while and slowly moves his leg until Kanda lets go of him. He sits up and dodges Kanda’s touch, because he feels sticky and disgusting, even though he knows that Kanda doesn’t mind. After months of the same night routine he doesn’t need a light to find the wash bowl, but Kanda still lights a candle and Lavi can feel his eyes on his back. It’s only a quick cat bath, but after slipping into a fresh shirt and shorts he feels a lot better than before. Kanda’s still sitting on the bed and raises the blanket for him. The dark circles under his eyes are nearly as bad as Lavi’s, which sits heavily on his stomach, because Kanda has to leave in the morning and got barely any rest.  
  
“Yuu,” he starts, but Kanda shushes him. “But-”  
  
“Shh,” he repeats and lays a hand on Lavi’s calf. “Still hurting?”  
  
“Only a little,” he answers and tiredness sloshes over him, clashing with his new old friend fear of going to bed, because he hadn’t one peaceful night since the morning Bookman jolted him untypically grandfatherly awake. “Yuu, you look terrible.”  
  
“Shh.” Kanda lies down next to him and hooks a hand behind Lavi’s neck and the other on the small of his back to pull him close, until Lavi lies half on top of him. “Try to go back to sleep,” he says and douses the candle. Soft darkness enshrouds them and Lavi moves until he’s comfortable, his head on Kanda’s chest and listening to his slow heartbeat. He curls his fingers into Kanda’s sides and closes his eye with a sigh, bathing in warmth.

 

Being so gentle with each other is at the same time lovely and weird, because everything leading to this is partly missing for Lavi. Their first kiss is gone and the night Kanda told him about Alma. Other memories are still there. Sneaking a kiss or two in the carriage. Kanda pinching his ears when he’s pestering him. Braiding Kanda’s hair and running for his life as soon as he wakes up. And harsh breathing and the feeling of skin on skin.  
  
The first time they sleep with each other is in the night before Kanda has to leave again. Lavi has a mission, too, but a day later. They say goodbye, they always do, because they once did not and then they were separated for months. It’s not really their first time, it’s the _second_ first time and Lavi clutches to it, because the _first_ first time is gone, neatly ripped out by Wisely, who always loved to squash the most precious of Lavi’s memory.  
  
The second first time is slow and tender, warm and soft. Lavi lies on his side, the only position, which doesn’t start to hurt after a while, and Kanda is behind him and in him, breathing hotly against Lavi’s neck, lips touching his spine and from time to time the shell of his ear. Lavi has one hand on Kanda’s hips, guiding him, because he needs _more_. “Yuu, please,” he breathes and curls his toes when Kanda obeys. The other hand holds Kanda’s, squeezing each other’s fingers nearly painfully hard, but they still don’t let go.  
  
It’s obviously not their first first time, because Kanda knows exactly what to do to empty the chaos in Lavi’s head. He finally lets go of Lavi’s hand, but only to cup his chin and turn his head, hips steadily rocking into him and sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. Their lips slide against each other and Lavi can’t keep his eye open, because it feels so good, so real, so grounding. Kanda lets go of his chin and his hand wanders down, down, down and it doesn’t take much more and climax sloshes over Lavi, who throws his head back, moan barely stifled by Kanda’s warm fingers on his lips.  
  
Kanda only needs another minute, before he curls his hand into Lavi’s hip and presses his face against his neck, breath hot and quick, heartbeat even quicker.  
  
They’re sweaty and gross, but they still stay in bed, because both of them are not willing to let go of each other, until Kanda finally does and shoos him up. They climb back under the blanket later, hair wet and wearing fresh clothes.  
  
War stays locked out, at least for this night.

 

They don’t talk about it, but both of them are scared that one of them won’t come back. Kanda’s injuries heal slower from week to week and he has lots of them. He’s even more reckless than before, doing everything to keep at least this apprentice alive and finally taking a Noah down. Lulubell dies in the ruins of an old city, Mugen nearly slipping out of Kanda’s hand, because the hilt if full of blood, mostly his own.  
  
The order celebrates, but Kanda doesn’t.  
  
He lies effete in Lavi’s arms, eyes set on something only he can see.  
  
“Twelve to go,” he says after a while, closing his eyes while Lavi’s fingertips ruffle his long dark lashes.  
  
“Eleven,” Lavi corrects and Kanda opens his eyes. They’re piercingly and go right through him.  
  
“Twelve,” he repeats and Lavi feels nauseous.

 

Kanda manages to kill two more Noahs in the span of five months. One of them together with his apprentice, who’s ridiculous strong for her fourteen years, just like her General at that age. He kills the second together with Marie and Tiedoll. It’s Sheril.  
  
Sheril might be gone, but he’s still alive in Lavi’s nightmares, searching for his now fatherless daughter. They come even more frequent in the first few weeks after his death and Kanda jolts him every night several times awake, because he screams and screams in his sleep.  
  
Afterwards Kanda always insists on getting up with him, no matter how much Lavi protests. His cold hands move over Lavi’s back, smoothing a soft cloth over his skin, massaging his tense muscles. Warm lather runs down his spine and Kanda somehow manages to knead the fear out of him. He’s still stressed and his heart is still beating too fast, but he’s not anymore in his cell. Kanda even stuffed an old cloth into the widest crack in his window, locking out wind and cold. He always ruffles Lavi’s hair with a towel and afterwards they climb back under the blanket, Lavi curling into the embrace and hiding from the world.

 

Another Noah dies, and another, another, another. Kanda kills one of them. His tattoo now crawls up his neck, over the other side of his chest and his back, into his waistband. There are fine cracks in his skin. They heal, but they don’t disappear and Lavi thinks they get bigger and bigger with each battle. The circles under Kanda’s eyes got darker and he’s even paler.  
  
“Promise me to take care,” Lavi whispers and it takes all his might not to cry. Kanda hooks a finger under his shirt to kiss his shoulder. He stays silent, because both of them know he won’t.  
  
“Six more to go,” he answers and the kiss is soft and sweet.

 

Lavi listened to hundreds of Akuma gunshots and he doesn’t know what makes this one special, but it is. The head nurse later has the idea that it might be stress-induced, but that doesn’t make it easier to handle. Now Lavi’s not only blind on his right side, but also deaf. The other ear is still working perfectly fine. It makes Lavi even more hyper-vigilant.  
  
Kanda sits next to him – always on his right side, because Lavi is a little less stressed this way – and says something. Lavi turns his head to look at him. “What?”  
  
“Sorry,” Kanda answers and gets up to sit down on his other side.  
  
“What did you say?” Lavi asks and inhales, when Kanda wraps an arm around him and kisses his neck. “Oh.”  
  
“I asked you if you’re sure you wanna keep going on missions,” he finally whispers into Lavi’s ear, who nearly misses the words amidst tickling breath. He moves a little bit away and examines Kanda, whose face is unreadable.  
  
“I’m not going to stay in the Headquarter while you all fight and die a little more each time,” he answers, all of a sudden heated, although Kanda isn’t the first one suggesting this, but he’s the one Lavi didn’t expect to.  
  
Kanda examines him for a long moment and something darts across his face, too quick to see, before he casts his eyes down and slowly nods. “Okay,” he breathes and Lavi’s stomach starts to hurt, because of the resignation in his eyes.  
  
Kanda is running on empty and there’s nothing Lavi can do.

 

Some call it the final battle, Kanda calls it _the end_ and Lavi knows he’s right. The tattoo now reaches his face, curling over his cheek and forehead, chest nearly completely black and faded out strands running down his thighs and calves.  
  
They sleep with each other the night before the end and it’s desperate and passionate. Lavi forgets the world for a moment, until he reaches into Kanda’s hair, which neatly breaks off, scattering black all over the mattress. Lavi clasps his hand over his mouth. “Oh god, Yuu!”  
  
Kanda rolls off him, wraps his arms around him and pulls him close without skipping a beat, face very even. “Shh,” he says and kisses Lavi’s wet cheeks. “Shh, it’s fine.”  
  
Nothing is fine, both of them know and hold each other for the rest of the night.

 

Kanda confirms in the morning that it’s truly the end. He cut his hair off right after getting up, even joking that it won’t get in the way like this, but nobody laughed. And then later he kisses Lavi in front of Tiedoll, Miranda and Marie, who all turn politely away. To everybody’s surprise the Earl keeps his promise and even though the sky is full of Akuma, not a single one attacks. Thirty more minutes until the battle begins. The sky is already crying, soaking all of them in mere minutes.  
  
The kiss is slow and gentle and Lavi wants it to go on forever, but it doesn’t. Kanda cradles his head with his cold hands and leans his forehead against Lavi’s, both of them enshrouded by the soft pattering of rain. Lavi doesn’t want to cry and so he keeps blinking and clearing his throat, tears hidden between rain drops. “Yuu,” he whispers.  
  
“Lavi,” he answers and there’s something serene in his eyes. Because the end is finally near, after two endless short lives.  
  
Lavi wraps his arms around his waist and there are a thousand words floating in the silence between them, unsaid and unheard, until Kanda leans forward and kisses him.  
  
They lock eyes and Kanda smiles at him, radiating warmth and peacefulness, and Lavi tries to return the smile, but he can’t. He wants to say something, a last farewell, a last _I love you_ , but his voice keeps cracking. Kanda lays a cold hand on his cheek and stays silent, but his eyes are brimming over with _goodbye_ and _you’re going to be okay_. Then he turns around after a last quick kiss and Lavi looks after him, eye burning, heart racing and hands shaking.  
  
Kanda activates his Innocence and some of the cracks in his skin start to bleed, washed away by rain, leaving behind streaks of red. Lavi looks after him until he disappears behind a spur of rock without looking back once, followed by Marie, Miranda and Tiedoll, who try to smile at him and wave, forming a unified whole walking straight into their end.  
  
Lavi inhales, his whole body shakes and the only thing that keeps him from screaming his misery into the heavy rain is that he doesn’t want to worry Kanda, who already carries the weight of two lives on his shoulders. He has to run the whole way back and barely makes it off the battle field, before the first gunshots resonate.  
  
And the battle begins.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> See you tomorrow for day 2!


End file.
